Corruption
by SaphiraAzure2708
Summary: He was dying. Of course, Chuuya knew, it wasn't that surprising. After all, life as a Port Mafia executive wasn't exactly the safest. With the added threat of the Armed Detective Agency and the Guild, it was touch and go for a while. But this... this was different.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: At the Bar – Don't talk, don't speak, don't say a word, darling (You'll regret it all)**

He was dying.

Of course, Chuuya knew, it wasn't that surprising. After all, life as a Port Mafia executive wasn't exactly the safest. With the added threat of the Armed Detective Agency and the Guild, it was touch and go for a while. But this... this was different.

He sat at the edge of the bar, sipping at the Pinot Noir he'd ordered as he observed his companions. To his right, Tachihara and Kajii were both arguing over something, their banter light and easy as they traded verbal blows. A little further on, Akutagawa sat with his sister, Gin, quietly talking together. Behind them, Higuchi hovered over Akutagawa, unwilling to part from her superior even on their supposed rest day. To his left, Hirotsu was chatting away with Nee-san, who had tucked away her fan in favour of carrying the conversation comfortably. All in all, it was peaceful.

Yet as he sat there, tendrils of darkness snuck in and out of his vision, skittering away when he turned to look, but slowly creeping back whenever he focused on something else. He could hear the whispers that followed him, the voices that taunted and teased at his sanity, coyly inviting him deeper into the madness. He gripped the glass harder, gritting his teeth as he willed his demons away.

It hadn't been this bad, at first. When Chuuya first activated Corruption, it'd been exhilarating. The sheer amount of power that flowed through his veins, the amount of destruction he'd been capable of – it'd been both terrifying and amazing. He'd ploughed his way through the enemy, heedless of the screams and carnage left in his wake as he laughed, laughed as his ability swirled to life in intoxicating power that thrilled as much as it burned.

But the more he used the power, the more he noticed that the voices that came with it, a hidden price that dulled his senses and slowed his reflexes. It was easy to hide the weakness at first, what with For The Tainted Sorrow augmenting his strikes and blows against his foes, while his subordinates shot those that he missed. Yet by the time Dazai had left Port Mafia, he'd been struggling to hold the madness back, relying more and more on his knives to subdue the enemy. He'd beaten it back for a while, not using Corruption, but fighting Lovecraft alongside that stupid bandage waster had made matters worse...

He was brought back to the present by the clattering of chairs as Kajii and Tachihara's fight escalated to petty shoving, while the bartender looked on with resigned despair as liquids spilled from jostled glasses. Chuuya held back a sigh of exasperation, throwing back the Pinot Noir and swiftly regretting it as he choked. Worried eyes scorched his back as he coughed, thumping his chest until the burn receded, giving way to a familiar gut-wrenching lurch. He brought his hand up quickly, covering his mouth as he nodded reassuringly to Nee-san and Hirotsu while he made his way to the bathroom, ducking into the nearest cubicle and locking the door before he dropped in front of the toilet bowl and puked.

Blood stained the water red as he vomited, hands gripping the sides of the toilet bowl with growing pressure until it cracked, For The Tainted Sorrow activating unconsciously. He spat the last of the blood and bile into the toilet, gasping for air as he laid his cheek against the cool porcelain of the rim of the bowl. Dimly, he registered the door to the toilets opening, soft footsteps making their way nearer until he heard the click of the lock. He shivered involuntarily as hands gripped his shoulders and turned him to face Akutagawa's worried visage, Rashoumon active as it reached out to support him.

"Chuuya-san?" He didn't answer, still focused on not puking on his subordinate while simultaneously fighting back against the roaring of the voices in his head. A gentle shake of his shoulder had him turning back to retch into the toilet bowl again, Akutagawa graciously holding his hair back while he dry-heaved into the mess he made earlier. Slumping to the side, Chuuya gratefully accepted the offered handkerchief and wiped away at his mouth, while Rashoumon reached past him to flush the vomit and blood away.

"...How long has this been going on?"

"...Ever since the truce." Chuuya turned his head away, horribly aware of the openness of the cubicle. Noting his discomfort, Rashoumon was sent to guard the door, while Akutagawa knelt in front of his superior.

"Is it because of Corruption?" He avoided Akutagawa's gaze, gripping the bloodied handkerchief to hide the shaking of his hands as he nodded. With a grunt, he lifted himself up, staggering slightly as he put his weight onto wobbly legs. Pale hands reached to steady him, and he acquiesced, allowing the younger man to help him to the sink. Rinsing his mouth, he spat into the sink once, twice, before turning to the Mad Dog, wiping his mouth dry on his sleeve.

"Don't tell anyone about this."

Akutagawa hesitated, before caving in and nodding assent.

"I won't." Gray eyes alighted on the handkerchief, and Chuuya noted the gaze.

"Sorry 'bout your handkerchief."

"It's fine. I've got plenty more. Chuuya-san can keep this one since he needs it more," Akutagawa stood awkwardly for a moment, before rushing on to speak, "If there's anything I can do to help, Chuuya-san – "

"No." His reply was sharp, biting. He gripped the Mad Dog's shoulders, blue eyes boring into startled gray ones. "There is _nothing_ you can do, nothing that anyone can do without putting themselves in danger, and I'm not about to risk that." His grip slackened a little, as Akutagawa nodded frantically.

"The best way for you to help me is to keep this a secret."

Hopefully, there wouldn't be any cause for him to use Corruption again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: O Mirror, mirror on the wall (Who's the true monster? You or I?)**

Blades flashed through the air as their wielders fought, each blow deflected and countered with stunning speed. Eyes narrowed and muscles tensed, bodies slick with sweat twisting through the air in an intricate dance. With a burst of speed, one of the duellers disarmed the other, the knife sent skittering across the floor. Within seconds, the disarmed dueller found themselves held at knife point, the sharp blade dangerously near their throat. There was no other movement.

Then the shorter person huffed out a laugh, retracting the knife with a smile. "You've gotten better, but there's still room for improvement, Akutagawa," Chuuya offered him a wry smirk. "Perhaps you might want a few more lessons?"

Akutagawa ducked his head, slightly embarrassed by his defeat. "Probably," he agreed, bringing up a hand to cough politely. "Though, I'm sure I could take you on with Rashoumon." He looked back up with a glint of defiance in his eyes, the mentioned ability materialising out of his black coat to hiss in agreement.

Chuuya only laughed again. "Maybe some other day," he dismissed, sheathing his knife with a flick of his hand. With a gesture, two water bottles rose into the air and flew towards them, landing perfectly in their outstretched hands. Murmuring his thanks, Akutagawa cracked his open and drank, savouring the clear taste that washed away the blood that threatened to choke him. Speaking of which...

"Chuuya-san?" The man in question hummed and turned around, hair tie in mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair. Taking that as a sign to continue, Akutagawa bluntly asked, "How are you holding up?"

Chuuya froze for a moment, then seemingly ignored him, tying off his hair into a ponytail before sighing. "It's getting worse," he admitted, gripping his floating water bottle until it protested against the strain. Akutagawa hesitated, then posed another question, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chuuya looked at him again. His eyes looked tired, the bright blue turned dull. "I appreciate your concern, Akutagawa, but trust me, this isn't something you can simply talk away or kill." He paused, eyes straying from him. Curious, Akutagawa turned his head to the side. Seeing nothing, he looked back to Chuuya, starting with surprise when Chuuya's eyes turned into pinpricks of red. A startled blink later, they turned back to blue. "Chuuya-san–"

"It's nothing, Akutagawa," Chuuya waved off, walking towards the exit, "I've got a meeting soon, so we'll stop the session here. Don't forget to stretch afterwards." Before Akutagawa could interject, the door swung closed after Chuuya with a snap. Akutagawa hesitated, then silently walked over to the door, opening it and poking his head out warily. There was no sign of Chuuya. A sigh fell from his lips, and he returned to the centre of the room, finishing his stretches. Perhaps he should talk to Gin about this. She had better people skills than him, anyway, so maybe she would know what to do.

* * *

There was no meeting. Chuuya slid the secret door closed as quickly as he could, breathing out a sigh as he flung himself into the armchair in the middle of the tiny room. Really, it hurt, having to push others away, yet ...

"Hiding from others again?"

Chuuya stiffened, then turned to pin the mirror on the far wall with a glare. His reflection smirked back, with eyes as red as freshly spilled blood, while black tendrils curled and uncurled around him not unlike Akutagawa's Rashoumon, just smokier.

"And what if I am?" Chuuya threw, glancing at the door of the room warily. With a flick of his hand, the lock clicked shut, preventing anyone from coming in. He focused back on his reflection.

"You're so... heroic, Chuuya-kun. Such a selfless act, not letting others see the pain that you feel," The reflection crooned, crossing his legs and leaning forward with a leer, "Yet you know it'll just be in vain anyway."

Chuuya gritted his teeth. He truly hated this part of his ability, the alter ego that came with using Corruption. Dealing with phantoms in the corners of his vision was already a headache, and fighting off the madness was a job and a half, but this, this dark manifestation of his ability? He'd rather put up with Dazai, and that was saying something, since he hated (loved) Dazai.

"It won't be in vain when you finally disappear after years of disuse." Chuuya shot back, irritation building as the reflection merely smirked in answer. He curled his fingers into a fist. It was true. (It _had_ to be true.) Over the past four years, his reflection had merely stayed a reflection, rarely if ever surfacing during his darker moments. But there was still a sense of doubt. His reflection picked up on it instantly.

"I will _never_ disappear, my dear Chuuya-kun," His eye twitched. "You have too much darkness in you to ever let me go." The reflection tilted its head to the side. "Besides, you fear Dazai too much to ever face him alone."

Chuuya sucked in a breath. His nails dug into his palm, cutting half moons into the pale skin. The reflection's smile grew wider, almost gruesome in how it stretched its mouth. "Really, without me, you'd have perished a long time ago. Who was it who pushed you to meet up with Dazai on that glorious night? Who was it who gave you the strength to meet him again, and to banter as though nothing had changed?" Chuuya flinched, the roiling darkness growing stronger with each barbed word as the reflection got up, advancing on him. "Who's the one who comforts you, who smothers the fears, the fear that you will end up alone? That Dazai will leave you like he did four years ago?" Its eyes had turned black, as empty as Dazai's, sucking the light away like miniaturized black holes. The air was filled with tension so thick that one could cut it with a knife.

Then the moment passed, the reflection sitting back down on the chair with a sigh. "No matter," it waved a hand, dispelling the darkness. "You'll call upon me soon enough." Chuuya breathed back out again, then frowned. "What do you mean by that? There's no cause for me to use Corruption again." The reflection merely smiled back, before returning to its normal, natural state. "Oi!"

A buzz from his phone interrupted his attempted interrogation of the unresponsive reflection. With once last dirty look at the mirror, Chuuya turned his attention to the phone. Immediately, he sobered and accepted the call, seeing Mori's name on the screen. "Boss?"

"Come up to the office, Chuuya-san," A velvet voice answered, each syllable carefully enunciated. "I've got a new mission for you." Before he could answer, a dial tone sounded in his ear. Mori had hung up on him.

With a sigh, he got up from the armchair and headed to the office. Hopefully, the mission wouldn't be too bad. The reflection _had_ to be wrong about Corruption. There was a snowball's chance in hell that he'd use it again. He was sure about that. Or at least, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: O Grantors of Dark Disgrace...**

The mission was supposed to be easy. There had been a few disturbances in weapons shipping, some shipments unaccounted for. An underdog had reported seeing a foreign group hanging about one of the warehouses the Port Mafia used. And so, the plan was to set up a trap, use the Black Lizard's efficiency combined with Akutagawa and Chuuya as backup just in case there was any extraneous variables, and wipe out the group. Simple and efficient. Obviously, nothing could go wrong with the plan.

 _Everything_ went wrong.

The extraneous variable? An ability user. A _gravity manipulating_ ability user. As such, everything went to shit.

* * *

Chuuya cursed as he flung his knives with deadly accuracy, downing half a dozen men as he manipulated the gravity to send them plunging through bodies and chopping through limbs. Across the room, Tachihara yelled out in pain as a knife stabbed through his arm, while Gin ducked another knife that flung itself her way.

A blue aura surrounded the knives, courtesy of the other gravity manipulator, controlling them much like how he himself would, as they raced towards his subordinates with alarming alacrity. Biting out another curse, he threw out a hand towards the knives, fighting for control over them while Gin helped Tachihara retreat. The knives spun in place, red warring with blue until both colours melded into a sickening purple that tore the blades apart, shards sent flying in every which direction.

Gritting his teeth, Chuuya locked eyes with his opponent, vaguely wondering whether this was how Odasaku must have felt when he faced down Gide, one ability user to another. With a shout, he sent a pillar flying towards the gravity manipulator, his ability being cancelled out as the enemy sent it flying right back to him. He barely missed it, propelling himself up and over the chunk of concrete while his subordinates scattered.

In that slight pause between blows, Chuuya cast a quick glance towards the rest of the room. Too many of the Black Lizards were down, either dead or dying. Even Akutagawa and Hirotsu were struggling, both ability users pushed to the point of exhaustion with their overuse. Port Mafia was losing, and they could _not_ afford that, not with Mori's expectations weighing down on them all. And with that, Chuuya made a Decision.

He turned towards Akutagawa, garnering his attention by hurling a knife into the enemy behind him that shrieked and fell back, spasming. "Call Dazai!" Chuuya shouted, sending another pillar flying through the air to stall the other gravity user. "Call him and tell him to get here now!" Gray eyes widened. "Chuuya-san – "

"Go!" He roared, flinging a hand towards Akutagawa, using For the Tainted Sorrow to shoot him out of the room. With those few precious seconds while he was distracted, the other gravity manipulator sent bodies flying towards him, some of them from his own side, some of them from Port Mafia. There was no time for Chuuya to separate them, and he winced as they slammed onto the floor in a splatter of blood and gore. With a shout, he tossed a chunk of the concrete floor towards his opponent, then ripped his gloves off and chanted the words he'd sworn never to utter again.

" _O Grantors of Dark Disgrace, Do Not Wake Me Again!"_

The resulting wave of madness sent everyone reeling back in terror, some vomiting as their stomachs rebelled against the hair-raising, spine-chilling feeling of _unnaturalness_ that spread through the entire building and spilled to the surrounding area. Chuuya _screamed_ , blood vessels popping and veins burning as power coursed through him, tearing down his meagre walls and surging through his limbs in an unstoppable rush.

The last thing Chuuya knew was of pure madness descending into his mind, taking over his control and sending him spiralling into nothingness. Faintly, he wondered whether Akutagawa had gotten away safely. He hoped so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: ...Do Not Wake Me Again**

The ringing of a phone cut through the silence of the Armed Detective Agency. Heads turned to look, then turned away as they saw Dazai yawn and lift up his phone. A few seconds later, the phone was tossed back onto the desk, the call cancelled. Atsushi looked on dubiously, then sighed as Dazai ignored the ringing phone once again.

"Dazai-san, who is it?" Atsushi absently wondered, finishing up his report on the Fitzgerald Incident, as it had been dubbed. He spared a glance towards the ringing phone, which stopped ringing for a short while, before starting up again. A bead of sweat made its way down the side of his face as Dazai pressed the decline button without looking at the phone screen.

"No one important," Dazai trilled as he studiously ignored the exasperated looks from the rest of the Agency. A minute later, Atsushi's own phone started to ring. He looked at the unknown number for a beat, then accepted.

"Moshi moshi! Nakajima speaking-," "Jinko, tell Dazai-san that Chuuya-san is in danger!" "Hah?!" Atsushi shot to his feet, startled by the voice of his nemesis coming out of his phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dazai raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for his response.

"Akutagawa, how-?" "Dammit, Jinko, just put me on speaker!" He pulled the phone away from his ear, deafened by the angry (or panicked?) shout of the mafiaso, then pressed the speaker button, while the rest of the Agency looked on in various states of alarm.

"Dazai-san, can you hear me?" Akutagawa's voice came statically out from the phone, punctuated by crashing sounds. Dazai cocked his head, looking bored. "What is it, Akutagawa? If you've called just to ask for my recognition again-," "Hang recognition! Chuuya-san has activated Corruption!"

Dazai's smile froze. In a flurry of movement, he scooped up the phone, moving to the door amidst the confusion of the Agency. "Where, and how long?" he spoke to the phone, kicking the door open and jabbing at the elevator buttons. Atsushi trailed after him, half worried and half confused over the whole situation. Who was this Chuuya-san? How did Dazai-san and Akutagawa both know this person? And why were they so panicked over the fact that he had activated Corruption? He hurriedly followed Dazai into the lift, listening to Akutagawa's frantic replies and Dazai's clipped queries.

Reaching the ground floor, Dazai ran outside, disregarding the honks and close calls from motorists who shouted at him angrily. Yelping apologies left and right, Atsushi scuttled after Dazai, almost losing him in the alleyways and shortcuts that the older man took without hesitation. Half a dozen twists and turns later, they were running towards Yokohama's port.

Or rather, what was left of it. The warehouses that used to line the port were destroyed, with only a few steel columns jutting out of the ground to indicate where they had been. The concrete floor was cracked, craters littering the pathway. And everywhere, bodies were strewn across the port, some impaled upon the steel struts, some missing limbs, and others barely recognizable as human bodies, with how warped they were. As Atsushi took in the horrifying sight, he almost missed Dazai running past the carnage, further into the destruction. Gritting his teeth against the bile that threatened to come up, Atsushi followed him, avoiding the blood that covered the floor like paint. With a start, he heard the sounds of a battle, growing louder with every step he took. Turning the corner, he sucked in a breath of disbelief.

He'd seen ability battles before, sure, especially during the days of the three-sided war, but this, this took the cake, frosting and cherries on the top. There was a _man/devil?/monster?_ floating in the air, red tattoos curling across his face and forearms as he hurled voids of black nothingness at his opponents, who scurried around screaming and dying as they were sucked into the black holes. There an air of _wrongness_ , something that had invisible spiders crawling up his spine and freezing him in place, unable to do nothing else but stare in terror at the unearthly creature that laughed and laughed and _laughed_ as he razed the earth, bathing himself in blood without a second thought. Too late, his mind registered a black hole heading towards him, oh gods this was it he's going to _die_ -

"Rashoumon!"

A loop of darkness pulled him away from the void, sending him stumbling into Akutagawa, who grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip. He looked terrible, a bruise purpling his cheek while cuts littered his face. He made a cursory once-over Atsushi, then called out to Dazai, who had escaped the attack earlier. "Dazai-san!"

"I know, I know!" Dazai yelled back, jumping over dead bodies and avoiding attacks with practiced ease. The _man/monster_ turned at the sound of his voice, smiling grotesquely as _he/it/they_ floated down to the floor. "Oh, _Dazai_ ," They purred, their eyes tiny pinpricks of black against the reddened sclera, "Come to stop me again?"

Dazai didn't reply, lunging for the _man/monster/devil_ with a grunt. They sidestepped, avoiding his touch with a crazed laugh which turned into a choke when Dazai kicked out his leg, hitting them in the side and sending him crashing to the floor. A burst of bright blue light washed over the man, the red tattoos fading as the _unnaturalness_ faded from the air, making it easier to breathe. Dropping to his knees, Dazai cupped the man's cheek with uncharacteristic gentleness.

"Chuuya?" A wet cough answered him, and Atsushi could see the fresh blood coming out of the _man/monster/Chuuya's_ mouth from his vantage. Glazed blue eyes found worried brown ones, and Chuuya blinked blearily at the man. "Dazai...?" A hand grasped weakly at the air, immediately joined by Dazai's as he held it tightly.

* * *

"I'm here, Chuuya. You can rest now," Dazai reassured, releasing Chuuya's cheek to card through his hair, "Just leave it to me, partner."

Something dark stirred through the blue eyes. "Just like how I left it to you the last time?" Dazai's eyes widened, freezing as the red-head coughed several times, struggling to breathe before succumbing to unconsciousness. Bowing his head, Dazai hugged Chuuya closer, never feeling so _apart_ from his old partner as he did in that moment.

* * *

Quietly, the Shin Soukoku watched on as the Soukoku fell apart at the seams, one half holding on desperately to the other half, which had been so carelessly tossed aside, before being lost to the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Healed on Enemy Territory (In which Truces are upheld, and a Pact is made)**

Atsushi sat in the Agency's waiting room, warily wrapping a bandage around a surprisingly obedient Akutagawa who barely twitched at the pain, giving out only grunts of discomfort when Atsushi was forced to sterilize the wounds that littered his torso. Yosano-sensei was busy healing Chuuya, whom by the sounds of it, was suffering just as badly as anyone who was forced to undergo the doctor's version of healing. Dazai-san was pacing around in front of the door to the infirmary, drawing nervous eyes from the other agency members as he wore holes into the carpet with his feet and cast dark looks at Akutagawa, who studiously ignored his former mentor's gaze. Atsushi finished tying off the last bandage, then sat back and looked, really looked at Akutagawa.

"What happened back there, Akutagawa?" The man tensed, then glanced at Atsushi. A moment later, he sighed. "What do you think, Jinko?" His voice sounded hoarse, tired.

"We were on a mission. Tasked to finish off a foreign group who'd been filching off the Mafia's resources. There was another ability user with the same powers as Chuuya-senpai." At that, Dazai-san's head snapped to look at Akutagawa, his gaze turning even darker than before, one bandaged hand coming to grip at his bolo tie, playing absent-mindedly with the brilliant blue gem. The mafiaso continued, oblivious to the tension growing in the room.

"It was a close fight. Even with Chuuya-senpai and myself helping, we were slowly being pushed back." Gray eyes hardened, crinkling at the sides as their owner recalled the bloody event. "Chuuya-senpai told me to call Dazai-san, then pushed me out of the building before activating Corruption," Akutagawa gritted his teeth, before murmuring, "Even though he _knows_ it's killing him..."

"What was that?" Dazai was suddenly there, standing next to them. Atsushi yelped and fell back, while Akutagawa flinched and tensed. The bandaged man loomed over them, eerily similar to how he looked back in the Mafia, brown eyes almost black with the darkness that swirled within them. "What did you say about what killing who?"

The clatter of the door interrupted them, as Yosano-sensei exited the medical ward, closed the door gently behind her. "I believe he means that the redhead's ability has been, or rather, _is_ slowly killing him from the inside out, judging by the look of his insides. Honestly," She sighed, pausing to lean on a nearby desk, "It's wonder at all that he didn't collapse before this fight." Dazai-san turned to her, voice still lowered in a growl. "How bad was it?"

She met his eyes squarely. "We're talking about multiple organ dysfunction. His ability, gravity manipulation, has been turning on everything. His lungs, his stomach, his kidney, his liver, his spleen, heck, even his own heart was slowly collapsing under the amount of pressure it was under. If I hadn't healed him and strengthened all those organs, there's a fair chance that he could've died within the week, without considering the battle he was just in." Out of the corner of his eye, Atsushi noted Akutagawa's facial expression shifting, turning from slightly apathetic into growing horror. "He could've died? But I thought..."

"You thought what, Akutagawa?" Dazai-san's voice was like steel, eyes boring into Akutagawa's mercilessly. Akutagawa hesitated, then answered. "I found Chuuya-senpai coughing up blood about a month ago, in the bathroom. He told me it was because he'd used Corruption during the fight to take back Q. Just the other day, he told me it was getting worse. But I never imagined it'd be _this_ bad –!" His words cut off as Dazai pulled him up by the scruff of his cravat.

"What do you mean then, you knew?" Dazai-san shook Akutagawa like a wet dog, disregarding the agency's protests against the harsh treatment of the injured mafiaso. Akutagawa's eyes were blown wide with fear, mixed with foolish resolve. "Chuuya-senpai told me not to tell anyone - " "Hang what Chuuya said! You knew that he was dying, but you never told anyone?!"

A harsh cough interrupted them. Nakahara-san stood shakily in the doorway, holding on to the doorframe for dear life. "Of course he wouldn't tell anyone, you waste of bandages. He'd never betray me like that." Blue eyes locked with brown eyes, surly meeting with shocked. "Not like you would understand that concept."

"What the hell are you doing up?!" Yosano-sensei stalked towards the mafiaso, ignoring how he tensed and angled his body in preparation to defend himself. "You've just been healed, and as much as I'd like to kill you for what your boss did to our office staff, there _is_ still a truce between the agency and mafia." She stopped in front of him, frowning. "And I thought I'd given you enough drugs to keep you under for quite a while too?"

"I've built up a resistance to drugs, there's nothing wrong with your medicine," Nakahara-san grumbled, warily keeping an eye on the doctor. "Also, I'm pretty sure you've healed me well enough to function for the rest of the week, thanks, but we really should be getting back. Oi, Mackerel," he called, side-stepping Yosano-sensei, "Let go of my subordinate, or do I have to beat you up again?" The menacing effect was spoiled by the redhead coughing, this time stumbling into the divider that blocked the reception room from the rest of the office.

"Chuuya," Dazai-san dropped Akutagawa, rushing towards the mafiaso, "You shouldn't over-exert yourself, you've just been – " "Healed, yes I'm aware, now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to base and report to the Boss." The mafiaso cut Dazai-san off, stomping towards the exit with little fanfare.

Kunikida stopped him this time, stepping in front of the door with a scowl on his face. "What makes you think you're free to leave as you like?" There was a shift around the room as Nakahara-san's eyes flashed in anger and derision, agency members suddenly struggling under an invisible weight as the mafiaso activated his ability. "You wanna fight against gravity, megane?" His voice _dripped_ with disdain, while Kunikida gritted his teeth as he fought to stay upright. "You-!"

"Enough."

All heads turned to look as the head of the Armed Detective Agency entered the room, Nakahara-san dropping his ability as he did so. "The ADA's president," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "So we finally meet face to face."

Fukuzawa-shachō meet his eyes calmly. "Nakahara-san." He bowed his head a little in greeting, then addressed Kunikida-san. "Let him go, Kunikida."

"But, president," "We have done our part in upholding the truce, which does not even include treating them for injuries. The best thing to be done now is to allow them to leave peacefully, not forcing them to stay against their will. I trust that you will not harm my people?" Fukuzawa-shachō cut Kunikida's protest off, still maintaining eye contact with Nakahara-san, who huffed and looked away. "Sure." A mumbled consent met their ears.

"Good. Atsushi, if you would please escort them out?" Atsushi jumped at being addressed, then nodded in assent, darting to open the door for the injured mafiaso. On his way out, Nakahara-san paused for a slight moment, almost as he wanted to say something, then changed his mind and walked out. Akutagawa followed after, nodding to Yosano-sensei and Fukuzawa-shachō in acknowledgement before sweeping out like a bat. Ignoring the distressed look that Dazai-san had on his face, Atsushi pulled the door closed behind him.

* * *

A gravity manipulator, a mad dog, and a were-tiger in an elevator. There was a joke somewhere in this, Chuuya was sure of it. Well, so far, the were-tiger had done nothing but fidget in his corner by the elevator buttons, so it was fine.

But one should never deem that a situation is fine based on assumptions. Chuuya could attest to that, regretting his thoughts immediately as the were-tiger half-turned to him, a question coming at him not half a minute after the elevator doors closed. "Er, Nakahara-san..."

"Call me Chuuya. None of that Nakahara-san business." Chuuya mumbled, exhaustion pouring over him as he subtly shifted his weight to lean more on the side of the elevator. The were-tiger blinked, caught off-guard, then rallied himself. A bit unsure of himself, that one.

"O-okay. So, erm, Chuuya-san, are you really okay?" The were-tiger paused, then backtracked quickly. "I-I mean, like, are you sure that you should be up and moving so soon? It's just that, I know how it feels like having to go through Yosano-sensei's, er, _treatment_." A shudder ran through the were-tiger's form, Chuuya almost following in assent before catching himself. In truth, it _was_ rather horrible, the things that the doctor had put him through, but compared to Corruption? It was rather tame, in comparison. Belatedly, Chuuya remembered he had yet to answer the question.

"It's okay, I've been through worse." That answer didn't do much to alleviate the were-tiger's worry, which by the looks of it, only increased. Thankfully, he was saved from further questioning by a "ding!", signalling the arrival of the elevator at the ground floor of the agency building. Talk about being saved by the bell.

Striding out, Chuuya missed the Shin Soukoku exchanging looks with each other, both hanging back to quietly talk to each other.

* * *

"Do you need help, with keeping an eye on Chuuya-san?" Atsushi asked, stealing covert glances at the aforementioned mafiaso who was busy hailing a taxi. Akutagawa hesitated, then nodded, worry stealing over his features.

"He's the kind of person to overexert himself trying to do his best, especially to protect his own." Gray eyes met purple-yellow ones. "Keep an eye on Dazai-san as well, if you can. Alert me if you spot him heading towards the northern part of town. That's where Chuuya-san lives." They both looked towards Chuuya-san, who had finally flagged down a taxi and was waiting for Akutagawa.

"I'll call you if that happens." The white-haired boy motioned for the black-clad mafiaso to go, then stopped short as he realised something. "Wait!"

"What is it, Jinko?" Akutagawa sounded irritated now, brow furrowing as he looked back at Atsushi, who had a look of utter horror and confusion on his face.

"How in the world did you get my phone number?!"

Akutagawa blinked, then smirked, entering the taxi as he replied. "I'm in the Port Mafia, if you've forgotten that, Jinko. We have everyone's phone numbers."

With that, the taxi pulled away, leaving Atsushi to silently freak out on the curb. The Port Mafia had his phone number. _Akutagawa_ had his phone number. His number one enemy. He groaned in abject resignation. Life really handed him the short end of the stick this time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Words Cut Deep, Actions Speak Volumes, but Eyes Hold the Truth**

Chuuya went home after checking in with Mori-san, as per Kouyou-nee's and surprisingly, Akutagawa's request. The black-haired mafiaso seemed inordinately worried about him, but that was a given, since he'd just been healed from the after effects of Corruption. He flexed his hand absentmindedly, vaguely remembering how it had felt using his ability to tear into the enemy. It had, however minutely, been exhilarating to see the fear in the enemy's faces. Of course, that had all faded away into darkness as Corruption took over, his world reduced to nothing as he struggled to stay the destruction of his own body.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, he entered his apartment, taking off his hat and coat before immediately heading into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, towelling his hair dry before stopping short at the sight of a certain bandaged freak sitting on his sofa.

"Dazai." He growled, leaving off drying his hair as he snapped the towel at the brown locks which ducked under the blow. Said man turned his head and fixed him with a faux smile, eyes pinning him in place as he greeted him.

"Yo, slug. Your tastes haven't changed a single bit." He gestured to the extensive wine cupboard that housed Chuuya's most expensive wines. "I'm not surprised to see that you've added more bottles to your collection. You've got at least, what, fifty bottles in there?"

Chuuya scoffed, coming around to stand next to the sofa. "I've got 68 bottles in there, bandage freak. Not that you'd bother to count." He looked towards his door, then groaned. "Why the hell did you find the need to destroy my lock, mackerel?"

Dazai shrugged. "It was simpler than knocking and waiting. Now, Chuuya," a serious look entered his eyes. "Care to explain why you felt the need to activate Corruption?"

"What, like you have any say in what I do, bandage waster?" Chuuya huffed, not missing the shift in his partner's demeanour. "It was because there was another gravity manipulator on site. Come to think of it," Chuuya frowned, recalling the files that he'd read before the mission. "None of the reports ever mentioned him. Must have been called in last minute, or been kept under wraps good enough that our spies never found him. He was good, though," he admitted, lips curling down as he remembered the blue aura that had surrounded his knives and wrestled for control with him before the metal gave under the immense pressure put on them. Those were his favourite knives, too...

"He must have been, if you couldn't defeat them the normal way," Dazai snarked back, avoiding the punch that came his way with ease. He caught it, forcing Chuuya to face him fully, an indiscernible look on his face. "That still doesn't answer why you thought it would be a good idea to activate Corruption without me present." Dark eyes bore into blue ones, the brunet looming over the redhead.

"Shit – let go of me, you idiot," Chuuya pulled away, horribly aware of their proximity to each other. "Stop – fuck it –just because you're the only one who can stop Corruption doesn't mean you get to decide when and where I use it, shitty mackerel." He blustered at his once partner now turned sworn enemy, trying to find that calmness that he had earlier because he was _not_ drunk enough to deal with this shit, okay? "You can't – you can't just walk back into my life pretending nothing's wrong, nothing's changed between us, as if you didn't defect from the Mafia, as if - " He cut himself off, reluctant to voice the thought that's running through his head. It didn't matter, since Dazai completed for him anyway.

"As if we were still together." Slender fingers tugged on his chin, forcing blue eyes to meet with brown ones. Chuuya opened his mouth to spit out another curse, only to be cut short by lips covering his own. He froze, unresponsive to the kiss as Dazai pushed forward, another hand coming up to cup his head as the taller man pulled Chuuya closer. A flick of a tongue against his lips finally brought Chuuya back from his stupor.

He reacted. Violently.

* * *

A block away from Chuuya-senpai's apartment, Akutagawa ran up the street alongside the Jinko, both panting hard for air even as their legs pumped as fast as they could.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me Dazai-san was gone, Jinko?!" Akutagawa yelled as he ran up the stairs to his superior's apartment, fighting past the pain that threatened to make his lungs collapse and struggle for air. Beside him, the Jinko shrunk back, brilliant purple-yellow eyes downcast in shame. "I thought he was off trying to commit suicide! He always runs off in the middle of missions to test out whatever new method he's come across, but it didn't cross my mind to check until I found his phone on his table!" The Jinko's half-assed explanation did nothing to reassure Akutagawa, and he made a note to fling him harder against the wall the next time they sparred.

As they reached Chuuya-senpai's apartment, Akutagawa slumped to the wall for a moment, breathing hard as he recovered from the run. Moving past him, the Jinko reached for the door handle, only to jerk back as it slammed open, a red glow covering it. A familiar voice rang through the air.

"GET. THE. FUCK. OUT." A body was flung through the open doorway, the Jinko yelping and diving to the floor to avoid it while Akutagawa blinked. Sparing the figure a quick look, Akutagawa poked his head into the doorway of the apartment, only to rear back and call Rashoumon to block the knife that flung itself his way. From inside the apartment, he could see Chuuya-senpai readying another throwing knife, one hand pressed against his mouth, his blue eyes oddly shiny. He froze like a deer in headlights as those eyes focused on him.

"Akutagawa?" His superior's voice sounded hoarse, more tired than it had been earlier in the early afternoon when he'd left Headquarters. Akutagawa hesitantly nodded, lowering Rashoumon from the shield he'd hastily put up. The redhead blinked at him, before refocusing on the man that struggled to his feet behind the black-clad mafiaso. With a jolt, Akutagawa noticed the tan coat and brown hair, his suspicions confirmed as Dazai-san lifted his head, sporting a rapidly developing black eye.

"You," A knife brandished itself in Dazai-san's direction, "Stay the fuck away from me. Akutagawa, make sure he goes away and doesn't come back. And you, Nakajima, wasn't it?" The aforementioned Jinko nodded his head rapidly in face of the sharp knife pointed his way. "Keep the bastard busy with whatever work the Agency needs him to do, or at least give me a call if he escapes. Capiche?" The Shin Soukoku bowed their heads in assent, cowed by the angry executive. Chuuya-senpai sighed, bringing his hand up from his mouth to scrub at the rest of his face. "Good. Now, if you would all excuse me, I'm going to sleep." The door slammed shut in their faces, the red glow fading.

* * *

Weretiger and Mad Dog exchanged furtive looks with each other, then looked at the bandaged man who was still staring at the door, his face a mask. Without a second glance, they each took hold of a bandaged arm, and started dragging Dazai away from the apartment. Dazai flailed a little, caught off guard as he struggled to get his feet beneath him. "Wha-?"

"This is all your fault, Dazai-san," Atsushi cut him off, heterochromatic eyes determinedly ignoring the plaintive ones turned up towards him. "If you'd just kept your distance, Chuuya-san wouldn't have thrown you out like that." He paused, then reiterated his words. "No, he definitely still would've, but maybe less forceful. And maybe without the knives." The younger Shin Soukoku fell silent as the older one spoke up.

"As of today, please avoid talking to Chuuya-senpai again. Or try to meet him. Or try to communicate with him through mail or any weird ways that you can think of." Akutagawa stopped dragging his former superior as they reached the stairs. "You of all people would know that Chuuya-senpai needs his rest, and he's not going to get it with you around. Therefore," the Shin Soukoku dropped Dazai on the top of the stairs, Atsushi joining in with the last order, "Please stay away from Chuuya-senpai/san!"

* * *

Dazai opened his mouth to complain, but under the combined glare of his subordinates, he merely closed it and settled for a frown. Since the two young partners didn't budge from their position, he got back up and walked down the stairs, mind swirling with information as he half-formed conclusions and strategies while being flanked by the duo. He'd done something wrong, that was for sure. Chuuya hadn't acted like that, since a long time back in the Mafia when he'd been arguing left and right with Dazai over his treatment of his subordinates. That time had ended with Dazai being kicked out as well, too, but he still managed to reconcile with Chuuya a few hours later, given that it they'd been closer then.

His mind went back to the kiss. It hadn't been as pleasurable as he'd thought it would be, since Chuuya didn't reciprocate it at all. A tinge of regret worked itself into his mind as he recalled Chuuya's watery eyes and shaking voice – he'd accidentally pushed the hatrack over the edge. With a mental nod to himself, he swore that he'd make it up to Chuuya somehow. Maybe he'd buy a hat for the petite mafia. Or a bottle of wine.

* * *

Chuuya collapsed onto the sofa, limbs feeling like overcooked noodles while his brain felt fried with all that happened. A tear made its way down his face as he tipped his head back against the headrest, gritting his teeth as he held back from shedding more tears.

Oh gods, Dazai had _kissed_ him. If that didn't make things worse, he'd been tempted to push back, to forget about the past and to just focus on the present, to fool himself into thinking that Dazai cared, that he actually meant something to Dazai. It made the truth even more painful, because Dazai didn't care about anything. He cared about nothing, except for that one person who he'd left the Mafia for, Oda Sakunosuke. A choked laugh made its way past his lips as he bent forward clutching at his stomach, revelling in the idea that he was seriously competing with a _dead man_ for Dazai's attention. How pathetic of himself.

* * *

Caught up in his self-mockery, Chuuya never heard the blow coming from behind. At the last second, he saw the reflection of the intruder in the TV across from him, but it was too late – a sound crack later, the mafiaso slumped bonelessly to the floor. The intruder came around the sofa, poking warily at the unconscious man to ascertain he was out, then pulled out a syringe with an unidentifiable liquid and injected it into his wrist. Job half done, they pulled the redhead up into a sitting position, one limp hand slung over a black-clad shoulder, before they were both swallowed by a dark purplish portal.

The apartment was left silent, no signs of a struggle to indicate the kidnapping that had occurred. On the coffee table, a phone buzzed as Kouyou sent over a message telling Chuuya that he'd been given the week off and that she'd ordered that no one was to disturb him during his recovery. Another message came through to tell him to rest well, before the phone's screen went dark and silent.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Interlude**

Four days after the incident, the Armed Detective Agency was having a quiet morning in the office, the members diligently working at their desks, with the exception of two people. One of whom stood up suddenly and moved towards the door, while the other flicked a lazy eye towards the first, and scoffed before turning back to his comic.

"I'm going out!" Atsushi's head shot up at Dazai's announcement, purple-gold eyes widening in alarm as he caught sight of the tan coat swishing out of the office. With a yelp, he shot up from his seat, intending to follow after Dazai to dissuade him from harassing Chuuya-san, but found his path blocked by Kunikida-san who shook his head and frowned at him.

"Nope. You are staying here, boy. I've had it up to here with Dazai, and I'll be damned if I let another person follow in his footsteps." Atsushi opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as the older man gave him a scathing glare. With a gulp, he retreated back to his seat, taking out his phone to send off a quick warning to Chuuya-san. After a moment of hesitation, he texted Akutagawa as well. Hopefully his partner could stop Dazai-san before the Soukoku duo could blow up again.

* * *

Bandaged hands gripped the bouquet of purple hyacinths, brown eyes tracing the letters etched into the shadowed surface in front of him. With a sigh, Dazai laid the flowers down.

"Yo, Odasaku. Long time no see."

He collapsed gracefully next to the gravestone, long legs folding themselves under him as he leaned against the cold granite. He'd been the one to pick out the stone and the spot, using his expansive wealth to ensure that his friend and his foster kids had a proper resting place. It was the last thing he did as a Port Mafia executive, and he'd taken the pains to visit the graves as often as he could throughout the past few years.

Tipping his head back, he reflected on the irony of the situation. The one who wanted to live was dead. The one who wanted to die was alive. If only they could have switched places.

"Ne, Odasaku, do you remember chibi?" Dazai started up a conversation, brown eyes watching the clouds above him. "I might've hurt him a bit too much the other day, when I tried to punish him for activating Corruption without me. He was being stupid, martyring himself just for some subordinates, and turns out he was hiding some things from me too, about Corruption killing him inside out, you know? Honestly," The demon prodigy sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head lightly, "you'd think he didn't care about his own life."

A growl curled his lips then, eyelids sliding open to reveal emotionless brown eyes. "He's mine, Odasaku, _mine_. I gave him control over Corruption, a way to stop the madness, and this is how he repays me? He owes his life to _me_ , and he throws it away like that?" Bandaged hands fisted into the grass, teeth gritting as he tried to rein in his anger.

Silence rang out through the graveyard, as Dazai sat there, listening for an answer that he imagined he could hear. Anger faded away, leaving behind a sullen and tired mood that gripped him mercilessly. "I know, I know, it's not what others think. Heck, it's not what Chuuya thinks. But," He sighs, a hand coming up to play idly with the striking blue pendant on the bolo tie he wore, "would it really hurt him to care, even a little?"

He leaned away from the stone, staring at the name of his best friend and once-crush. "You and him are just the same, aren't you? Both hopelessly blind to others' affections towards you." Dazai chuckled brokenly to himself. "I don't think Chuuya even knows that I know he helped me escape from Port Mafia. I rigged that car bomb so that he wouldn't be framed, after all." He rested his head on the cold granite, closing his eyes, listening to the wind pick up. "Maybe, maybe I'll drop by his place later. Apologize or something. What kind of flowers does he like?" A short silence. "Ah, red camellias, of course. Thanks, Odasaku." He sat there, lost in memories of the past.

* * *

Akutagawa stormed towards his superior's apartment, a dark cloud hanging about him. Inwardly, he cursed his former superior's determination to make Chuuya-san's life hell. Why couldn't the man just mind his own business and not dip back into the Port Mafia whenever he liked?

The dark-haired mafiaso also sent another, smaller curse towards Jinko, for being too soft. Honestly, if the weretiger hadn't let Dazai-san escape from the Agency's headquarters, he wouldn't have to ward off Dazai-san before Chuuya-san decided to defenestrate him with great prejudice and add half a dozen bricks to finish the idiot off. He suppressed a smile at the thought, amused by the thought as he clambered to the executive's floor and headed to the apartment, noting the lack of screaming. Maybe Dazai-san hadn't appeared yet.

He startled as the door gave under the first knock. The door yawned open, revealing an empty living room, looking very much like the last time he had seen it. Akutagawa felt a sudden chill run up his spine, blood freezing like ice in his veins.

"Chuuya-san?"

The Mad Dog stepped into the apartment, gray eyes taking in the untouched space. He moved forward cautiously, Rashoumon rising at his command to look ahead. With a growl of acknowledgement, tendrils of darkness sped off, knocking gently on each door before opening them, showing Akutagawa rooms devoid of Chuuya-san's presence. With a frown, he turned towards the coffee table, spying his superior's phone. With slight hesitation, he picked it up, fingers fumbling with the lock before he remembered the failsafe, accessing the phone. Three unread messages sat in the inbox. Akutagawa froze.

Chuuya-san wasn't home. He hadn't seen any of the messages, from the recent one that the Jinko had sent to the later ones (and more worrying ones) that were from Kouyou-san. Chuuya-san never ignored his messages. Rashoumon slinked around his ankles in distress as Akutagawa walked from room to room, frantically trying to come up with a valid reason for Chuuya-san to have been in radio silence for 4 days. There wasn't any.

Chuuya-san had disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Story time! Oh yeah, and a small surprise! (Please keep in mind, if you kill the author, you don't get the rest of the story)**

Chuuya dreamed of stars.

The stars had always held a place in his heart, a terrible longing that didn't seem to be his - _Arahabaki-_ that made him stay up late at night, watching the skies above in its magnificent glory. But here, in his dream, they weren't hanging far away on a backdrop of inky blackness. They were close, so close that he could feel the blistering heat that emanated from them, so strong that it should have reduced him to ash.

Yet he floated there in the void, free like the stars in the sky around him, captivated by the celestial giants that threatened to overwhelm him. (He was tempted to do so. After all, weren't they all made of stardust?) A red glow to his left caught his attention, and he turned, narrowing his eyes at the glowing silhouette that threatened to swallow up the beautiful sight around him.

"What do you want, Arahabaki?" The being ignored him at first, red eyes taking in the sights. Chuuya couldn't fault them for that, really. It _was_ a breathtaking sight, but the threat of the god in front of him overpowered any appreciation that he had for the stars now. "Oi, dipshit, answer me! Weeks ago, you're taunting me with that alter ego creature that always pops up whenever I'm alone, and now, you ignore me as if you-"

"Shut up." Arahabaki's eyes were on his now, red boring into blue. Chuuya paused in his tirade, caught off guard by the tinge of – Nervousness? Trepidation? Fear? – in the god's voice. They floated over to him, effortlessly traversing the space between them to loom threateningly in front of him.

"There's another god nearby, and I will not have you accidentally making an enemy out of them." A clawed hand twisted in the air, betraying the undertones of nervousness stemming from the god. "Not with the amount of power I can sense in the air." The words floored him, making his mouth drop open in surprise. "Another god?"

Arahabaki nodded, his smoky form dissolving into dark clouds that flickered with red lightning before a face reformed. "If I'm right, and the god is who I think it is, then you better be on your best behaviour, human." The god hesitated, then expanded the clouds. "Are you familiar with the creation of the world?" Chuuya shook his head, and Arahabaki sighed. "I will have to teach you, then, if you are to understand the severity of our situation." Pictures started forming in the clouds, and Chuuya was curious enough to drift closer, examining them. He saw flashes of _people?animals?gods?_ moving around, before it all faded into uniform white. It was blinding.

"When the universe was first born from the void, the first gods, Kunitokotachi and Amenominakanushi summoned two divine beings into existence, the male Izanagi and the female Izanami, and charged them with creating the first land." Two humanoid forms appeared, one dressed in a black hakama and other in a white kimono. "After bearing two devils, the ōyashima (the great eight islands), six more islands and many deities, Izanami died giving birth to Kagutsuchi (the incarnation of fire), and went to Yomi, the shadowy land of the dead." The kimono-clad figure disappeared, and a faint outline appeared in a far corner.

"Enraged, Izanagi slew the newborn child and went to Yomi to search for Izanami. Upon reaching Yomi, Izanagi could not see her, for the shadows hid her appearance, but her powers were great even in death, and he recognised her aura. Desperate, he implored her to return with him to the surface world, asking the leader of the underworld to allow Izanami to leave. Upon gaining permission, the couple joyfully left, Izanami holding on to Izanagi's arm." The scenes shifted to show the events progressing, the two figures reunited and moving slowly to what looked like an exit.

"But as they approached the entrance to the living world, the light from the surface shone upon Izanami, and Izanagi reeled back as he saw his wife's rotten form. Fear swallowed him, and he threw Izanami from himself, running for the surface. Shrieking and indignant, Izanami followed, calling forth Raijin, the God of Lightning, and Arahabaki, the God of Calamity, to aid her." Chuuya perked up at this, staring at the red outline of the quadrupedal black beast that appeared alongside a humanoid wreathed in sparks of lightning. The two beings raced ahead of the female god, chasing Izanagi.

"As Izanagi reached the surface, he turned to push a boulder into the mouth of the entrance, intending to entrap his wife within Yomi. I stopped him." Here, Arahabaki looked prideful, showing off the scene where the black beast breathed out a black hole that swallowed the boulder. Chuuya couldn't suppress a snort, and he ignored the scathing glare he received in return. "Then what?"

"Then," Arahabaki sighed, looking morose, "Izanami's children betrayed her." Several figures appeared, each flinging out their hands in an obvious use of power. "Before I could do anything else, I was sealed away into the vessel that those dratted scientists found a millennia later. Raijin was banished to the stars, left to die in the abyss."

Arahabaki paused for a moment, then foraged on. "I am unsure of the exact details after this, but from what I could sense, seven of the ōyashima came to their father's aid, restraining Izanami when she reached the surface. A knife, fashioned from the bones of Tsushima, the only ōyashima loyal to his mother, was used to sever the goddess' head from her body."

There was a long pause then, and Chuuya looked back at Arahabaki. The god seemed contemplative, the smoke swirling aimlessly. "Oi, dipshit. Not to interrupt story time, but what does all this have to do with the god that you can feel now?"

Arahabaki stared at him like he was an idiot. Chuuya had a sudden flashback to a certain bandage-waster's stare. He shook it away as the god answered. "The god I can feel now is Izanami, of course."

"Huh? But I thought you said she was killed?" Chuuya questioned. Arahabaki reformed into a humanoid form, shaking his head. "Didn't you hear a single word I said just now? Izanami was strong even in death, strong enough that Izanagi could sense her presence in Yomi. If my guess is right, Izanami is somewhere near our vicinity. But there _is_ something strange about her presence."

"I think, what Izanagi and the seven ōyashima did to Izanami after they cut her head off, was to turn her into the Book." Chuuya sucked in a surprised breath, and Arahabaki nodded grimly. "Through you, I've heard about this Book as well, and it sounds suspicious that any inanimate object could have enough power to manipulate reality the way the Book can. And with you being captured and all," Arahabaki ignored Chuuya's irritated huff, "I'm betting on my existence that some scientists are trying to replicate what happened with you and me. They're trying to put Izanami into a vessel."

Chuuya stared. And stared some more. "But that was just a fluke, wasn't it? Rimbaud was the one who broke your seal, and I just happened to be the 'safety device' that trapped your consciousness with mine. There isn't any science behind this, and even if they succeeded, what are the chances Izanami won't decide to destroy them all at once?"

Arahabaki shrugged. "I do not claim to understand the reasoning behind humans and their actions. I'm as stumped as you are, but I suppose they might have some plan to restrain both Izanami and us in whatever facility they have. Anyway, if you're to meet with Izanami anytime soon, I'll need to teach you the proper ways to address her..."

* * *

Consciousness came in increments. He felt the bite of handcuffs first, followed by a cold stone floor. A prison cell, then, he concluded. After listening for guards and hearing none, he opened his eyes and sat up, careful not to exacerbate his throbbing head.

Chuuya took in the cell that he was in. It was a small room, just four walls and a small window near the bottom of one wall for food and water, with no indication of how to get in or out. He huffed, pulling on the chains tying him to the floor and testing their strength. Frowning at the lack of give, he looked around, freezing as he saw a girl chained up in the other corner. Who seemed to be equally as surprised as he was to see him there.

Bright blue eyes stared into his, set in a pale face framed by strikingly similar copper-red hair. The girl opened her mouth and closed it, taking in his face with an intensity that he shivered from. Then she spoke, and bowled him over with the revelation that her question brought.

"Nii-san?"

* * *

(Nii-san = Big brother)


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: It Runs in the Family**

"Nii-san? Is that you?" The girl called out, pulling away from the wall, eyes narrowed to get a better look at Chuuya's face. Chuuya couldn't reply, mind still reeling from shock. He had a sister?

The girl's face hardened as she saw the confused look on his face. "You," she began, the chains restraining further movement, "You look like my brother. But," blue eyes scoured his face warily. "Who are you, really?"

Chuuya narrowed his eyes. "Why should I answer that?" He hesitated, then tacked on with, "I don't know whether I have a sister or not. I don't know who _you_ are."

The girl stared at him for a while, then relented. "My name is Nakahara Chizue. What's yours? And where are you from?"

He sucked in a breath. "Nakahara Chuuya. I'm from Yokohama, Japan." Chuuya could see the girl's pupils dilate – she knew his first name. That didn't mean much, though. Plenty of people knew his first name, ever since he'd decided to ignore the Japanese ways of greeting in favour of being direct. He focused back on the girl as she started to mutter to herself.

"Looks like him – same name – no memory – but maybe – the incident? No – maybe it's a trap – like the others? But – sounds like him – could he – Wait." She focused on him again. "What's the number on your neck?" She demanded.

"Wha – How do you know about that?" Chuuya snarled back, his mind racing. _No one_ knew about that number tattooed on his neck, a memento of the days he'd had no memory of, a remnant of the time before he and Arahabaki merged. Not even Kouyou-nee knew the exact numbers that were imprinted there, only about its existence. (There was also Dazai, but that shithead didn't count, not when he'd _liedbetrayedhurtabandoned._ ) Chizue huffed.

"All experiments from here have them. And it's the only way I can think of that will prove that you're telling the truth." Chuuya scoffed at that. "What makes you think I believe every word that _you_ say?"

Both parties eyed each other warily. Eventually, the girl sighed and uncrossed her arms.

"I've got a number as well. Look, we can be here debating over whether who's telling the truth or not, but I think the only way we'll ever know is by showing each other our numbers."

He gritted his teeth. "On the count of three, then." She nodded. Then they both spoke. "One, two, three."

Chuuya lifted his hand to his choker, pulling it down to expose the number on his neck. Across from him, Chizue twisted her neck, letting the light shine on it. They stared at each other in stunned silence.

Chuuya's number was A5158. Chizue's number was A5159.

"You really are him," Chizue breathed, eyes roving over his face, a hand reaching out to him before the chain on her wrist pulled taut. Chuuya himself took in his sister's face, finding identical blue eyes, a familiar nose, the same arch of eyebrows. It was like looking at a younger, female version of himself.

"Chizue?" Chuuya tried the name, words sounding unfamiliar to his ears, yet familiar to his mouth, as if he'd said them before. His sister blinked at him, waiting. "Why, no – _how_ are you still alive? I mean," he tugged at his lock of hair, "Arahabaki created a crater where the facility was, and I'm pretty sure no one except for me survived, but you…?"

"They moved you to a different facility," Chizue wrapped her arms around her legs, eyes cast down. "It was so long ago, I thought, I thought that you might have been just a dream."

Chuuya bit his lip. "How old were you then?"

"Three, I think." She furrowed her brows. "I only vaguely remember some stuff from back then, and I haven't been able to properly keep track of time here. But I guess it's been at least a decade? Um, how, how old are you, nii-san?" Chuuya shook himself out of the stupor he'd been in, when blue eyes stared at his own. "I'm 22 this year." He watched as she bit her lip, lifting her hands to count, while his mind raced.

If Chizue really was only 3 years old when he'd been moved to the other facility and then escaped, that would mean that there was about a 4 year age gap between the two of them, which would mean that his sister was 18 years old this year… and that she'd been stuck in this place for 15 years. He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nauseous.

15 years… In all that time, he'd been busy trying to find his place in the world, stuck somewhere between humanity and godhood, wondering whether his existence was meant to be. He hadn't looked back at his days as an experiment after killing Rimbaud and Verlaine, never thinking about whether he might have left someone behind.

 _It's not your fault._ Arahabaki whispered in his mind, making him grit his teeth.

Before he could retaliate, a sudden coldness permeated the cell, making him shiver. Chizue went rigid, back stiff and straight as she stared at the floor. Chuuya found himself following her gaze, tensing as he spotted black tendrils of mist wafting from the floor.

"What's happening?" He looked to his sister, only to find her on her feet. "…Chizue?"

She stared at him fearfully. "They're going to experiment again."

He froze.

"You mean–" He was cut off when the black mist grew bigger and swallowed them both. He cursed and struggled against the chains, feeling a pull on them as they suddenly grew tighter. He felt his spine slam into a hard surface, something clamping onto his neck to hold it down, along with his limbs. By the time his vision cleared of the darkness, he'd been rendered immobile against the restraints. He tried calling on For the Tainted Sorrow, only for silence to greet him where the power once lay humming. He swore mentally. Ability-cancelling restraints. Rare, cost a fortune to buy and a literal life to make. Even the Port Mafia didn't use such restraints, the Boss deeming it too costly to find and purchase them. He'd heard rumours that the government had a few pairs, which could mean that -

" _Finally_ ," a voice to his right spoke. "I get a proper reference."

Chuuya immediately tried twisting his head to see who it was, only to be held back by the dratted collar. Biting back a hiss against the pain, he watched with narrowed eyes as a man wearing a mask came into view.

"Who-?" "Quiet," the man interrupted, one hand coming up to hover over Chuuya's immobilized limbs. Chuuya growled at that, then yelped in surprise as the surface he was tied to tilted up, so that he could see his surroundings. He sucked in a breath when he spotted Chizue strapped against another table, surrounded by a bunch of other people in labcoats. Her eyes snapped to his immediately, and she gave him a grimace.

"Just like the sister, I see. Always worried about others, even when they should be worrying more about themselves." Chuuya focused back on the man, suppressing a wince when he poked a needle into his arm to draw blood. "I wonder what it is that makes Nakaharas so resilient. Perhaps you were descended from one of the gods." Chuuya growled lowly throughout the man's soliloquy, until Chizue coughed, pinning him with an anxious look. She shook her head minutely.

The man ignored the silent exchange, withdrawing the syringe. "I wonder if that's the key behind Arahabaki's compatibility with you, A5158," he addressed the mafiaso. Chuuya tore his eyes away from his sister to glare at him. "It would be a breakthrough in science to harness the power of a god, to say nothing of tying down the power of Izanami herself."

Chuuya's eyes flicked about the room at that, and his breath caught at the pale white book with ornate detailing displayed on a stand. Before he could give more than a second's glance, the man spoke again, and Chuuya forced himself to look back at him, scowling.

"I'll save you the trouble of asking. My name is Chisaki Kai, and I intend to continue what my predecessors started."

"And that is?"

Gold eyes met his own furious blue ones.

"To make soldiers out of gods."

* * *

End Notes

...  
Hi.

...

I'm back? Sort of?

...

I should be studying right now. *Stares at notes*

...

...

Anyway, I finally finished this chapter! *Cries in relief* I've been trying to finish it for so long, but my mind keeps jumping forward to other ideas and I just really didn't have the time to finish things before the exams were on me, not to mention all the preparation I have to do for uni (I'm going to Colorado Boulder this fall! Really excited, yet really nervous, and, and...

Okay, scratch that. EXTREMELY NERVOUS. I've never been to the US before, and I have absolutely no idea what to do to prepare. My mom keeps telling me to look at banks and stuff and there's a bunch of things I have to do before I get on campus, like finish the online placement tests and find out exactly how much I have to pay (why is the exchange rate so high... (-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩_-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩) ) and also introduce myself to the other people who are going to Colorado online (there's. there's so many americans. so many. like i know its in america. but. ive been in the facebook group for at least a month. i havent introduced myself yet. everyone introducing themselves is american. theres no other international in sight. im terrified.) and finally getting an instagram and snapchat to connect more with others (i live under a rock and i know it. ... im also terrified because theres also only americans in the groups. ... ) and looking for a roommate and like. there's so much.

...

...  
im sorry for rambling.

...

...  
I'll be finished with exams on the 29th of May, so I might (extra emphasis on *might*) be able to write another chapter or two before I go off to uni. I think I might clean up one of my WIPs that I have for BNHA and post that too! Something to look forward to!

...

I need to get back to studying.

...  
On that note, I hope you liked the chapter! I hope Chizue doesn't turn out too bad? (I'm worried that I might skew the story to focus on her too much... please do tell me if that happens! I'll try my best not to stray too far!) Also, yes, it's dipping into the world of BNHA! I have to admit that I only really know Chisaki through fanfictions that I've read (I'm behind in the anime - stopped right after Bakugou got captured by the Villain League, and I've never read the manga - but I get spoiled from tumblr and fanfiction, so I know bits and pieces.), so I'm taking a bit of creative freedom with Chisaki's characterization and his background.

(SPOILER ALERT: I know he's originally meant to be raised in the yakuza, but I've changed it because of Reasons. Reasons related to the plot bunnies that have made their home in my mind and really can't be driven away. Sorry!)

Side note: About Calypso, I'm a little stumped on ideas for the reunion - any suggestions? I'd be glad for any help that you could give!

So, yeah, that's it for now! Thanks so much reading, and please do drop a comment down below if there's anything you want to say! And also,

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCEEEEE *sobs* I'M SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT, AND THEN WRITING SO MUCH HERE IN THE END NOTES *more sobs* YOU ALL DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER THAN THIS. I WILL TRY MY ABSOLUTE BEST TO WRITE MORE.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Watch These Bones Live - You Don't Know Me As Well As You Think**

Blood floated through the air. Dark gold eyes watched hungrily, while their owner wrote down notes on its composition.

"Hmm," Chisaki tapped his pen, then made a quick gesture. "Enough for today. Put them back in the cell."

Black mist swirled around the bodies on the tables, before they disappeared. Chisaki ignored the display of power, walking to the glowing screen where the other scientists were crowded around. "Verdict?"

One of the scientists stepped up to him, their eyes glittering excitedly.

"Your hypothesis was spot on, Chisaki-sensei! The blood comp of the subjects have major differences in RBC and WBC count, A5158 has higher levels of both even with our tampering with A5159. Interestingly," they swiped the screen, bringing up a window and enlarging it, "A5158 seems to have enhanced organs, on par with Q9542, the one with the strengthening Quirk. Unfortunately, we lost Riko-sensei during the maneuver," here, they nodded to the body covered by a bloodied sheet in the corner of the room, "since we needed to measure the unsuppressed effects of the subject's Ability. A pity."

Another scientist stepped in, pulling up another window on the screen as she narrowed her eyes. "The neurochemicals in the brain show Arahabaki's presence, but cross-comparison with other base examples indicate abnormally high levels of dopamine, like those with hallucinations. From our previous experiments in transferring Abilities and to an extent, Quirks, from one user to another, we've seen neurochemical imbalances like this as well, before the Ability rejects the new host and begins rampaging. There's a higher rate of success in Quirks, but the difference between the two powers makes it a moot point.

Also, the connection between A5158 and Arahabaki is probably unstable, leading to the deterioration of its organs. Unfortunately, we don't have much data about restoring balance between the vessel and the Ability or Quirk – most of the experiments end up self-destructing before we can collect more data. There doesn't seem to be an off-switch for these rampages unless someone manages to get those power-restraining cuffs on them, but even then, the organ deterioration normally gets them before we can do anything else."

"Which means that we need to do more testing before we can implement the Project, then." Chisaki's eyes were alight with possibilities, a gloved hand coming down to bring up three glowing DNA models. "Cross-reference the data from Ability experiments with the Quirk experiments, I have an idea…"

* * *

Chuuya couldn't help the whine that escaped his lips when he was deposited on the ground of the cell. He could still feel the phantom movement of his organs, exposed to the air even as his screams were muffled by the gag that was shoved into his mouth before the madman of a scientist began taking him apart. Across the cell, Chizue let out a hiss of pain as she slumped against the wall, then lowered herself to lie down on the ground.

"Don't move too much. The pain will go away eventually." She bit out against gritted teeth. Chuuya cast weary blue eyes over to her, then slid to the ground as well. The cell quieted to the sound of pained breathing until Chuuya broke the silence.

"Does this happen all the time?" He didn't look for Chizue's reaction this time, choosing to stare up at the ceiling. His breath stuttered when Chizue made a sound of affirmation. Fifteen long years of experimentation… shit, he couldn't even stand the thought of having to go through another session like before. His train of thought was cut off when his little sister started speaking again.

"They test things on other subjects first, then they use it on me." She shifted, the sound loud in the silence of the cell, then continued. "Then, there – there's the times when they train me, and send me out." She broke off, and Chuuya turned his head to look at her. There was something terribly, terribly _sad_ and _wrong_ about her lying there alone, uncertainty and pain and anger and loneliness and a dozen other things all mixed up in a bag of roiling emotions that he remembered feeling when he woke up 15 years ago on that small piece of intact land in Suribachi City, now reflected on her face.

Ignoring the spike of pain, he reached out a hand towards her, the chain around his wrist jangling and pulling painfully as he stretched to touch her hand. She turned to look at him in surprise, then her face crumpled, and she grabbed his hand, her grip almost painful in its intensity. She swallowed thickly, her other hand reaching to wipe tears from her eyes before she continued.

"The, the training, it's to prepare me for fulfilling my role as – as a tool. A weapon, for the government to aim at whomever they want. So, they send me out, give me a, a target, that I'm supposed to – that I'm supposed to eliminate." Chuuya ignored the nails digging into his hand, more worried about how his sister started to shake uncontrollably now. He squeezed her hand gently, opening his mouth to tell her to stop, but she barrelled on, tears seeping from her closed eyes.

"I don't know how many people I've, I've _killed_ , nii-san. People who I don't know beyond faces on a report and details on paper, faces that I see in nightmares. But every time, I get to go out, to see the world outside, to taste freedom, and, and it _hurts_ , nii-san, it hurts _so much_ , because I would rather go on a mission to kill someone than to stay in here any longer. I'm a _monster_." The tears came harder now, falling in streams down her cheeks. "I had a handler, once, who helped me with my earlier missions – he took me in, gave me books, told me about the world, taught me about morality, and he was so _nice_ , teaching me and telling me stories about his experiences, about his family, treating me like, like I _mattered_ beyond being A5159 and a weapon."

"He told me that my situation wasn't fair, that I didn't deserve it, as though it wasn't my fault that I had to fight and kill and be experimented on. And he tried, he tried taking me away from here, bringing me away during a mission, trying to give me a chance." Chuuya's hand was bleeding by now, but he didn't let go. Wouldn't let go. "The higher-ups, they, they caught us. Threw me back into the cell and the labs. I don't know what happened to him." Her breaths were coming in gasps now, and Chuuya gently stroked his thumb over Chizue's hand, trying to calm her down.

"It's my fault that he's gone now," she whispered, opening her eyes to look up at the ceiling. Chuuya's heart _broke_. He sat up, ignoring the spike of pain that went through his whole body when he did.

"Bullshit. Those fuckers are the ones playing with your life, messing with stuff that they don't understand. It's their fault, that you're suffering here. It's not your fault." His eyes flashed dangerously. "You hear me? It is _not_ your fault that they did that to you, that they forced you to kill those people, that they took away your freedom and that person who tried to help you. It will never be your fault."

"And I promise you that I'll get you out of here, Chizue."

Chizue's head snapped up. Her eyes were bright as she looked at Chuuya.

"Really?"

His heart clenched at the earnest look on her face, disbelieving yet desperately hopeful.

"Of course. You've got me with you, after all. I'll make sure that we both get out of here."

* * *

Brown eyes narrowed as they flicked through the papers in front of them. Dazai didn't acknowledge Atsushi-kun setting down a cup of coffee, focused as he was on the information that he'd forced out of Ango.

He'd discovered Chuuya's disappearance the day before yesterday when he'd dropped by the chibi's apartment to apologize. Akutagawa-kun had been having a silent breakdown in the middle of the living room, panicked grey eyes meeting narrowed brown when Dazai pushed the suspiciously unlocked door open. It took him a quick scan of the surroundings and of Chuuya's phone in Akutagawa-kun's shaking hands to figure out what had happened, before he'd started making calls to Mori-san, Fukuzawa-shacho, and Ango. Mori-san had been sharply worried, asking for details in clipped sentences before hanging up on Dazai, while Fukuzawa-shacho listened to Dazai's hurried requests, allowing him the time off he'd requested and Atsushi-kun's help.

Ango had been the hardest to get to, the government worker evasive and unwilling to speak. Fortunately, Atsushi-kun had arrived at the apartment by the time he'd made up his mind to force answers out of Ango in person, so the weretiger was left to take care of Akutagawa-kun while Dazai went off to chase Ango down.

His eyes darkened as he processed the information in front of him. An offshore facility, only known to a certain few individuals in the government. Human experiments. Ability experiments. A program so secret that even Ango hadn't heard concrete details about it, only rumors. Assassinations of numerous people, both in Japan and outside it. Scientists known to be dealing with Ability and Quirk studies disappearing.

It all boiled down to a picture that Dazai didn't like. Especially with the short conversation he'd had with Ango yesterday evening after he'd threatened the government worker.

" _He has a sister," Ango muttered, spectacles flashing as he looked surreptitiously to the side. "She's the government's Assassin."_

 _Dazai paused at that, his mind whirling. Chibi had a sister? He tried pressing further, but Ango simply shook his head._

" _Look, Dazai, this is really, really classified information. I had to pull a few strings to even get this much, and I'm already getting suspicious looks for even asking about it. Whatever Nakahara's caught up in now, and his sister, it's bigger than just Yokohama – I'm talking about Japan's government, possibly international relations as well. I've looked through some of the information in there, and the things it talks about… there's a reason why Ability users and the Quirked are normally kept separate. Just, be careful with this, Dazai."_

He suddenly stood, chair skidding back to hit the wall. The Agency turned to look at him, eyes wary, but he ignored them, approaching Ranpo-kun. The detective looked up at him, green eyes lidded like a snake's, unflinching even as Dazai slammed the documents down on the desk.

"I need your help, Ranpo-kun," Dazai gritted out, aware of the shocked gasps from his colleagues. The detective's eyes locked on his, assessing, then flicked over to meet Fukuzawa-shacho's. The president gave a sharp nod, and Ranpo-kun acquiesced, putting on his spectacles with little fanfare.

* * *

The Agency waited with bated breath, watching the detective work through the papers quietly. Then Ranpo-san snapped his head up, glasses flashing.

"Get me a map."

Atsushi hurriedly moved forward, pulling out the paper map of Japan he'd gotten from Kunikida-san earlier. Dazai-san moved to give him space, leaning forward to watch Ranpo-san point at a spot on the map.

"I've narrowed down the location of the facility to this general location," Ranpo-san's finger slid in a circle on the map. "It's harder to deduce this, mainly because of this guy," a hand slapped down on a profile. Atsushi shifted to look at it, purple-gold eyes taking in the smoky form that filled the picture. His eyes slid down to read the rest of the profile, and he frowned.

"He doesn't have an Ability?"

Ranpo-san shook his head, eyes flashing.

"He has a Quirk." Yosano-sensei stepped forward at that, frowning.

"I've heard of those before. It's not classified as an Ability, because of its nature. Abilities are brought about by random chance, with no clear sign of how it is transmitted between individuals, with the exception of a select few who manage to pass it down to their children," here she nodded to Kyouka-chan, who gripped her phone silently, "whereas Quirks are more straightforward. They're brought about by genetic mutations, and most children have powers that are related in some way to their parents'. There's another distinction between the two, though, since only Ability users have described having visions of their Abilities having physical forms, as we've experienced during the Dead Apple incident." Everyone winced at that.

"Yokohama is unique in that most of the people who live here either have an Ability or not. Those who don't have Abilities are regarded as normal, but outside Yokohama and a select few places in the world, 4 in 5 people have a Quirk, while 1 in 100 people have an Ability. The rest of the population are regarded as 'Quirkless', which is now more of a slur than anything else," Kunikida-san pitched in, pushing up his glasses and frowning.

"Anyway, back to the topic at hand," Ranpo-san interrupted, his brows furrowed as he tapped on the picture of the smoky figure. "This person here has a warping Quirk, which means that they can move anywhere. Normally, this would mean that Nakahara could be anywhere, maybe even the other side of the world. However," he nods to the rest of the papers, "the information that Dazai has gathered here is thorough enough for me to narrow it down.

The part of the government that is involved in this wouldn't want to cause an international incident, so they need to keep it within Japan borders. They wouldn't want to continuously use the warping Quirk, and because of the amount of supplies needed to support a facility like this… they'd need daily supplies, rather than weekly. That'd take a toll on the warping Quirk person, and they need it to transport their people to the next assassination. Hence, this area here." Ranpo-san finished, sitting back. He continued wearing his glasses, though, green eyes watching Dazai-san.

"I know this area," Dazai-san spoke after a while, brown eyes darkened. "Mori-sensei considered buying it up and using it as another base for Port Mafia, but he decided it was too far out to be effective for anything other than an outpost." He stared at the spot for a while, then turned to Atsushi, who jumped. "Get Akutagawa on the line and update him on the situation. I need time to think."

"Wait," Kunikida-san stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Dazai, you can't just –"

"What?" The brunet whirled on the blond, glaring. Atsushi could see the bespectacled man falter but stand his ground, nevertheless. "I can't do what? I can't go retrieve one of the most dangerous people on the planet from an unknown group, a group that we know is involved in human experimentation, Ability and Quirk experimentation, and the assassination of political figures? I can't use the Armed Detective Agency's resources to ensure that one of the Port Mafia's wildest cards is no longer under a foreign group's control? I can't save the person that I, that I," Dazai-san faltered, then pressed on, "that used to be my partner, from uncertain danger?"

"No."

Dazai-san froze, then started to clam up. Kunikida-san held up a hand, stalling him.

"No, you can't do that, not alone. You've been working yourself to the bone these past few days, and regardless of how much you annoy me and the rest of the agency at times, you're one of us now. And that means that whenever one of us is in trouble, everyone helps. I don't know how it was like for you in the mafia, and I can't say that I understand why you still hold on to your connections. But," Kunikida-san pushed up his glasses, "I can safely say that everyone here is worried about you. You aren't going to be alone in this rescue mission. We're helping you."

Fukuzawa-shacho stepped forward, drawing eyes. "Kunikida-san is correct. The creation of the Armed Detective Agency was to help save people. By allowing you to take time off and have Atsushi-kun's help earlier, I have already approved of your decision to find and rescue Nakahara-san."

Kyouka-chan appeared next to Atsushi, making him jump. "I've called Akutagawa-san." Her blue eyes were trained on Dazai-san. "He's on his way, with Kouyou-san and Higuchi-san. What are your orders, Dazai-san?"

The man blinked, stunned into silence. But slowly, Atsushi could see a smile work its way across that face.

"We find the chibi in the haystack and get him out. Then," brown eyes glinted in the light, "we burn the haystack."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

First of all, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME AND PUTTING UP WITH MY SPORADIC UPDATING

I am really really incredibly sorry for not updating on time.

I am also sort of half-dead right now (recovering from a cold), so I'm not sure whether what I've written follows my plan of trying to finish this story within five chapters or less (preferably less. I've been dragging this out for more than a year, I want to get it done, dammit!)

Also, I have no idea how to write a smart character.

And I have possibly doomed myself by making this into a crossover. Because it opens up an avenue to further plot development.

What do you think? Would you want to read a continuation which branches into Boku no Hero Academia? (and possibly Katekyo Hitman Reborn... I had a phase last year when I just recently discovered it) Because I've technically got the idea, just need more inspiration (and strength) to flesh it out.

Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time, and I hope you liked the chapter!


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